


Go Ask Her Out For Real

by quicksparrows



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 16:57:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10283699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksparrows/pseuds/quicksparrows
Summary: Prompto plucks up his courage to ask out the most talented, beautiful, intelligent, wonderful, kind, funny woman to ever grace the earth.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt from Max.

 

 

The Goddess of the Gears looks radiant, utterly radiant.

True, he hadn't expected to meet her at the end of her jog — a charming little mishap had ended up in her jogging right by him, completely unnoticed. That had been a coincidence, some unhappy combination of circumstances, but maybe it's fate to meet her like this instead. Prompto gazes upon his goddess coming down the slopes and thinks she has _never_ been more beautiful. Long-legged, bouncy curls, beads of sweat on her clavicle and dribbling — ooh boy — to the neckline of her coral tank top. She's all beautiful, every inch of her. The kindest, sweetest, smartest––

"UhhhhhheythereCindy!" he calls, casually as he can with sweat pouring down his own face. It's so hot out. Maybe he should have planned to ambush her somewhere air conditioned, like the shop, or the diner, or—

"Oh hey there!" she replies, slowing down on the slope and coming to a halt some feet from him. "You out for a run too?"

"Naw," Prompto says, quickly. "I, uh—well, actually, I was thinking about taking up running."

She cants her head a little. One blonde curl falls against her cheek so perfectly, the end of the lock nearly brushing her lips. _Ohgodsohgodsohgods._

"Really? The Prince said you've been running for years."

Prompto curses his buddy in that instant, his excellent, wonderful, intelligent best friend, for thinking of him and talking him up to Cindy. That was so nice of him, and it's a shame Prompto had to go and, well, balls it up.

" _Again_ ," Prompto clarifies. "I run a lot, or at least I did before, but I've been taking a break lately, with all the long car rides."

"Huh," she says, smiling. Her cheeks are rosy from the heat, and he could count her summer freckles even from ten feet and love each and every one. "Well, you should've told me. I'm always hurtin' for a running partner out here."

She's perfect. Prompto can barely contain his glee. His hands wring a little tighter in his pockets.

"I'd love to," he says. "As it so happens, that's sort of what I came here to ask you about."

"Well, sure," she says, cheerily. Her eyes twinkle. She's so beautiful that every inch of Prompto hurts. "I'd love to be your running partner."

Prompto's smile feels glued to his face, he's so happy.

"Great," he says, beaming. "Great."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Gladio puts the fire poker down with such gusto that the middle log collapses with a spray of embers. He stares down Prompto from across the fire in disbelief.

"Please tell me you don't think she means running partner like it's some sort of euphemism."

"No no no," Prompto says, feeling a little frazzled already under Gladio's gaze. Ignis and Noctis aren't back, so it's just the two of them, and Gladio isn't exactly delicate. Prompto meets him with further explanation: "We're going to run together tomorrow. For real."

"So it's a date?" Gladio asks. The skepticism drips off his voice.

"Yeah," Prompto says. He smiles, kicks some dirt with the toe of his boot, and says: "We're running partners."

"That's not a date," Gladio says, bluntly. "I guarantee she doesn't think she's dating you. You gotta ask her out for real."

"I did," Prompto protests.

"You didn't," Gladio says, even blunter.

"You weren't even there!"

Gladio laughs, long and low. 

"I know girls," he says. "And more than that, I know _you_. You aren't dating her... yet."

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next afternoon, Prompto shows up at the beginning of the trail with a fistful of flowers behind his back. Cindy shows up ten minutes later, in breezy shorts and a tank top that scarcely covers her midriff. Her smile is as broad as the road and twice as appealing. His heart skips so many beats that he fears a heart attack. He's in love.

Thud thud thud thud.

"Hey Prompto," she says. Has she ever said his name so sweetly, so beautifully? That's the sound of angels, he's sure. "Glad you made it!"

"Me too," he says, as if he hadn't put his runners on an hour earlier than necessary, or as if some fiend had threatened his walk across the compound. He feels like he might puke. "I'm glad you made it too!"

"I'm out here every day," she says, crisply, and she laughs. Angels, harps, a crescendo of heavenly bliss! "Say, what you got there?"

"Here?" Prompto repeats back, and then he remembers the flowers in his hands. "Oh!! Uh, well, these are for you. I saw them and thought you might like them."

She laughs.

"Well, that's real sweet of ya, but I'm not sure what I'll do with 'em on a run."

"Right!" Prompto laughs, and he tosses the flowers aside. "I'll uh... get you some another time!"

Cindy watches the flower bundle bounce across the stone and sands; the darling red buds toss to and fro in their sad ribboned bundle. Her expression is puzzled, and he feels his heart stop entirely. She doesn't seem to know what to make of that kind of lunacy. Why the hell did he throw them? _Why the hell did he throw them?_

"Sure," she says, and it takes the edge right off. "Wanna start that run?"

Prompto takes off running, cheeks burning red.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Get up," Gladio says.

Prompto feels like he's on fire, buried this deeply in his bedroll in the middle of summer. The pillow over his head makes his own breath feel suffocating, but shame is a worse thing to face. Too bad; Gladio nudges him anyway, with the toe of his boot right on Prompto's bony ass.

"Get up, Prompto," Gladio orders.

"I can't," Prompto says. "I can't face the world. I'm going to live out my days right here." In shame.

Gladio heaves a sigh.

"Well, we're packing up, and I'm taking my tent with me. You can be a sad sack anywhere but here." 

Indignity strikes, and Prompto sits up, tossing aside the pillow and blankets.  

"THAT'S your concern?! Your tent?!"

Gladio chuckles and crouches down, elbows on his knees. 

"I _like_ this tent," he says.

Prompto hates his smug smile, his rugged good looks, his advantageous extra foot of height, his washboard abs –– of course Gladio could brush this off. Gladio just needs to let his open shirt flap in the breeze, and the goddesses of the universe fall at his feet. God, what is it like to roll out of bed like that? What could it possibly be like to walk up to girls, introduce yourself, and have them pawing for selfies and melting under your hands? Prompto can't imagine. 

"What does it matter? I ruined my chances!" Prompto groans.

"Oh, calm down," Gladio says. "You made an idiot of yourself. Who cares? You do that every day in other things and you don't miss a beat."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Prompto scoffs.

"You're welcome, now get up," Gladio orders. "Go ask her out for real!"

Before Prompto can protest, he's grabbed by the ankle, dragged off his camp mattress, and dumped unceremoniously in the dirt.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The Goddess is somehow even more divine when she's in her most natural element — the garage. For a moment Prompto admires the deft way she handles a wrench, the beautiful dip of her spine, the shapely curve where her inner calves touch, and his confidence feels just in reach. He stops at the trunk of the car and takes a deep breath. She looks up at him and smiles and he feels his heart's storm calm a little. 

He can do this. _He can do this!_

"Cindy!" he says. "I know this is really sudden — believe me — but I wanted to know if maybe you'd like to eat dinner tonight."

He pauses. 

"With me," he adds.

"Sure," she replies. She looks down at the floor and says to someone: "You don't mind if I go for a bite, right? I'd hate to make you miss Taco Tuesday on account of me."

Prompto laughs to himself in disbelief as Cid coasts out from under the car on a rolling back brace. The old man squints up at Prompto and then looks back to Cindy.

"I don't care," he says. "You kids have fun."

"Great," Cindy says. She turns her eyes to Prompto again, and he swears to the gods that she winks at him, all chipper and cheeky and friendly. "Meet me at the diner at eight?"

Feeling mortified but also fortified beyond all reason, Prompto nods.

"Eight," he repeats. "It's a date!"

And then he walks out really fast with a shit eating grin on his face.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"You never skip out on dinner," Ignis remarks. Prompto nods fervently, and then again when Ignis adds: "Especially when it's your favourite."

Prompto puts his hands together in ironic prayer; Ignis' blessing is oddly important, as it will determine the likeliness of his favourite meals popping up again in the coming week.

"I have a date," he says.

"Yeah," Gladio interjects, from the campfire; he's slouched low in a folding sling chair, a can of beer in one hand. He says: "With luck he'll be eating well tonight." 

He lifts two fingers to his mouth in a 'v'. Prompto nearly chokes on his own breath. Ignis gives Gladio an exhausted look that would wither the skin of weaker men before looking back to Prompto. His gaze feels bracing. 

"Well," Ignis says. "Best of luck to you, Prompto. I heard you'd been trying to ask Cindy out, but I hadn't heard whether you were successful or not."

"Yeah!" Prompto says.

"All my best wishes, then," Ignis says. "Enjoy yourself."

"He's got this," Noctis adds, not even looking up from his phone, mid-way through a game level.

Prompto feels about twenty feet tall.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He half expects something to go comedically wrong. Maybe she cancels. Maybe she shows up with a friend. Maybe she asks where his friends are. Maybe the diner is full of everyone they know from the area and there's no chance for romance. Maybe she just changes her mind in general. Who knows?

But when we walks into the diner, there she is, at the counter. She's looking at her phone, a couple little trinkets dangling against the back of her hand. There's a black stain on the side of her wrist from working in the garage and it's impossibly cute to him. Her curls are brushed out a little more than usual, so they kiss her jaw. She's wearing a t-shirt and jeans. When she turns to glance his way, her eyes twinkle.

"Hey!"

He sidles into the seat next to her. She slides a chocolate milkshake across the counter, settling it right between them.

"Got us one to split," she announces.

He decides right then and there that he will travel to the ends of the earth to make her happy, and that's how it all begins.


End file.
